Angel
by Ochiba Konpeki
Summary: The prince of a magickless kingdom discovers an odd tower in the middle of the forest... Style, hints of K2, kinda Kyman, Kenny/other character.


_So... This was supposed to be a simple oneshot based off of Tangled. I'm now looking at three or four more chapters the same length as this and a very detailed plotline. Fuck. Anyway, I just started back at school and I have been stressed to pieces... That's why it's been so long since my last update. I hope this was worth the wait. BTW I know that Kiba is in this... It was an accident, he's the only non-SP character, I swear.  
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**Angel**_  
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"-huge old abandoned tower out in the middle of nowhere. We should go check it out!" the blond exclaimed as he domestically dusted the surfaces and objects that he deemed to be in need of dusting around the room. The noirette stuck him with a dead-eyed glare, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he wondered when he decided to befriend the overly cheerful servant assigned to be his personal, erm, helper of sorts. A moment later it struck him that he'd been best friends with the peasant since he was eight, ten years.

"Kenny, why would I want to go through the trouble of getting freaking _permission to leave the kingdom_ just to go see a stupid abandoned tower?" he groaned grumpily. The blond faltered a little, but quickly recovered and shot him a bright smile. "Stan, you seriously need to get out more. Your dark poet thing needs to end, for real." Kenny placed his hands on his hips, fixing his charge with a firm stare.

The Prince rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to address me as Prince Stanley, Ken." he pointed out tiredly. Kenny smirked. "I'm practically royalty, dude. I'm even wearing your freaking clothes, made from the finest fabrics and dyes in the kingdom. I can get away with calling you Stan."

"Only because you're one of mom's pet projects."

"And a charming one at that."

The long time friends held a short staring contest. It was rather intense-cobalt lightening clashing with cerulean-but ended all too soon as prolonged eye contact with the blond made Stan nervous.

"... Alright! Tomorrow, okay?" he snapped as he averted his gaze, an angry flush rising to his cheeks. Kenny smirked in victory as the prince silently stressed over the influence a mere commoner had over him.

OoO

"Come here, my beautiful angel." came a rough, deep voice from the rocking chair sat by the fire. A small boy perked up from his resting place and for a moment he seemed to consider the best way to escape his warm cocoon before standing up carefully and stepping out of it as it fell around him, pushing his hair behind his shoulder as he made his way to the familiar but shadowy figure, a bright smile on his strikingly lovely face.

The sound of something dragging against the ground followed the boy as he walked across the room. He sat delicately on his caregiver's lap, leaning readily into his large, warm chest and sighing contently as familiar arms wrapped around his tiny waist, careful to dodge his... Eccentricities.

"Do you love me, Angel?" the man asked as he lovely stroked the boy's long hair, the rumble of his voice tangible from the boy's position against his chest. "Of course I love you, daddy." he responded automatically, confusion coloring his tone as his wide green eyes stared up at the impassive man.

A slow smile spread across his face as he leaned down to kiss the boy on the forehead. "Just making sure, love." he whispered.

OoO

Stan stared up at the tower from his place on one of the palace horses, thoroughly unimpressed. It sure was tall, yes, but... There was obviously nothing special about it. It mightn't been a fire tower at some point-though he could only spot one window, thrown open at the moment, clean white curtains billowing just inside.

Hm.

"Kenny, are you sure this place is abandoned?" he asked monotonously, ready to beat him if necessary. "Positive." the blond affirmed happily. "There's no way to get up there, no doors. We're climbing, dude!"

The Prince groaned. Why did he pick the insane peasant?

"I'm a prince." he pointed out. "Climbing towers isn't exactly something I learn in etiquette." Kenny rolled his eyes, gesturing to the long length of rope tied to the saddle. "You can climb a damn rope, it's only like, sixty feet."

Tossing the looped rope over one shoulder, the blond walked up to the wall of the tower, examining the stones that made up the outside before melodramatically cracking his knuckles and neck.

He then proceeded to just... Climb. Stan stared in awe and wonder as his friend scaled the wall as easily as though he were climbing steps. It was only a minute or two before he was sitting on the window sill, grinning down at his best friend as he rapidly knotted the rope around a large hook he'd tested with his own weight a moment or two before. He tossed the long length down, down, down and called cheerfully, "Here ya go, Princy!"

The moment he spoke, an odd, sudden noise sounded behind him and he whipped around to stare into the dark of the interior of the tower, thinking for a moment that he had caught some movement but quickly dismissing the idea. What in the world would be living way up here? Nothing big enough to be dangerous, that's for sure.

In a way, he was right.

Stan approached the end of the rope, eying it apprehensively. He used to climb trees as a child. This couldn't be all that different, could it?

Scrabbling for a hold, he practically clawed his way up the rope, losing his grip several types and friction-burning his palms, a blush warming his cheeks as he listened to his best friend's playful laughter. When he reached the top, however, and sat on the windowsill to look out over the forest from a unique perspective-how had no one noticed the break in the tree line, the clearing that this tower inhabited?-he couldn't help but feel proud of himself.

"It's beautiful." he murmured, watching birds flit about the emerald treetops with a somewhat stricken smile. Kenny nodded in agreement, glancing down at the ground and smirking. Stan looked down as well, and upon seeing the great distance between him and the peaceful meadow he would splatter across should he fall, turned somewhat green and toppled over backwards.

"Did you just..." Kenny gasped out between the chuckles that sent him to the floor as well with a thump, "Did you just squeak?"

"No." the prince denied truthfully with a pout, glancing into the unrevealing shadows of the inside of the tower, "It came from in here. Are you sure this place is uninhabited?"

"Positive." the blond murmured as he stood, eyes fixed on an especially dark corner of the room, and the large piece of furniture that inhabited it. "Is that a bed?" he asked no one in particular, gaining a shrug from the prince.

They stared, and slowly, their eyes adjusted to allow them to see the small canopy bed clearly. They approached it, a little ill at ease, and stared a big longer, glancing about the room. Bookshelf. Rocking chair. Fireplace-Stan hadn't noticed a chimney before. Woven rug.

"We're in someone's bedroom." he realized aloud. Kenny shot him an anxious glance and stepped forward, eyes fixed on the space just below the bed.

"What is _that_?" he asked incredulously, pointing at a length of shiny material that looped out from under the bed just barely, only to leas back underneath. Stan crouched down, examining it closely. It almost looked like... "Is this _hair_?"

Instantly, the material was yanked farther under the bed, causing Stan to topple over backwards and Kenny to stumbled and almost fall.

"Dude." the blond breathed, a frightened note to his tone. Stan scrambled away, scanning the walls... Aha.

A moment later, Stan was working to light the lanterns mounted on the walls. Kenny rushed over to help and soon the room was only a little darker than the afternoon sun outside.

They approached the bed-and the mysterious creature beneath it-cautiously, hands on their sheathed daggers. Kenny nodded to the prince to stay where he was and the noirette obeyed, watching as the blond stepped silently up on the bedframe and circled around to one side, signaling to the other, three, two, on-_THUD._

Kenny landed hard on his hands and knees and snarled at the thing under the bed, and Stan, having realized last-second what he was doing, moved to pounce on it. However, neither were prepared for a distinctly human shriek of terror or the hyperventilating sobs that followed. Both of them froze, suddenly horrified that they had crawled through a child's bedroom window and scarred them for life.

After a moment, for lack of anything better to do, Kenny shrugged and stood, moving to the headboard and starting to push. Catching on, Stan did the same, and soon the grinding noise of wood against the stone floors filled the room as the scrunched their eyes shut in concentration. After a minute or two of slow progress, the boys stopped and eagerly glanced to the floor they had unveiled, eager to see this strange creature, only to be greeted by a great pile of... Red. Long bunches of what appeared to be threads of redwine-colored silk, sitting in a huge pile, with a great path of it leading to underneath the bed.

The creature had moved.

As the watched, the silk was slowly dragged back under the bed. Stan's mouth fell open in shock-there had to be at least fifty feet of silk here!-but Kenny stumbled back, a hand clasped to his lips, and whimpered shakily, "It's... It's hair."

Stan stared. It was too fine, to rich to be hair, and much to long. "No, it's not." he denied, reaching down to gather up the path of hair-it took two full hands to get it all-and tug harshly. A pained screech sounded through the room and Stan had a moment to feel guilty before the shock of the creature he'd yanked out hit him like a rock to the back of the head, his vision spinning and his legs trembling as wide, tear-filled emerald eyes-the most gorgeous eyes he'd ever seen, prettier than any of the family gems-stared up at him in fear from a earth-shatteringly lovely face. Kenny fell to his knees and Stan dropped the length of what was yes, very much so _hair_ as the beautiful creature's pure white wings, sticking out from the copious wine tresses, fluttered nervously.

At that moment, a snarling mass of rage tackled the prince, throwing him to the ground and crouching over him for a moment, staring evilly, murder in his eyes. The feral boy shoved off him a moment later and immediately fell to his knees in front of the, the beautiful _thing_, gathering it up into his arms and stroking one of it's wings comfortingly as it trembled. He stood and turned to face the intruding pair, baring his canines at them.

"You _better_ have a fucking _fantastic_ reason to be bothering him." he growled animalistically.

"It's an angel." Kenny pointed out. He seemed to be just full of obvious yet completely necessary observations today.

"Should I kill them?" the brunette asked the angel in his arms, lips drawing back to once more reveal his elongated canines.

"N-no..." the angel whispered, scared but unwilling to have the pair injured. He pulled himself more tightly into a ball, his plain white dress riding up to reveal more pale skin along his virtually flawless legs. The paralyzed pair on the ground blinked almost in unison, confusion finally making it's way back onto their faces as the man-were those_ tattoos_ on his face?-set the divine creature on the displaced bed.

"Well?" the brunette prompted, not turning to them as he fussed with the long locks of wine hair tangled around the redhead's skinny limbs, pushing them one by one behind his shoulders, between his wings. When no words were forthcoming from the intruders, he turned back around, snarling dangerously and demanded, "Why are you bothering my angel?"

Finally, Kenny snapped out of it. He shot to his feet, accusation in his eyes, hands balled into fists, and snarled right back, "Why are you keeping a _messenger of God_ locked in a tower?"

Instantly, the animalistic man was inches from his face, an aura that can only be described as killer intent pouring off of him in waves. The Prince and the angel flinched, cringing, but Kenny bravely held his ground, a challenge in his eyes as he fought their private battle valiantly. Finally, the man-who Stan could now see was huge compared to Kenny and therefore him-broke eye contact, averting his eyes to the side and muttering hatefully, "It was never my choice."

Suddenly, the boy on the bed gasped in horror, clasping a hand to his mouth as his eyes clouded with worry. "Look at the Sun!" he exclaimed anxiously. All three of the other men glanced out the window and the angel's protector cursed.

"Oh no, Ky, we won't make it..." he ran a stressed-out hand through his wild brown locks, biting his lip as he looked around.

"Make what?" Stan asked a little shakily as he pulled himself to his feet, unable to keep his eyes off the beautiful boy. His stomach turned a little and he shook his head, resolutely fixing his eyes on the pacing brunette.

"It's Tuesday." the brunette muttered. "I have to have his hair brushed out before dusk."

The intruders averted their eyes to the sheepish boy on the bed. "I'd do it myself..." he shrugged with a light blush across his pale cheeks, eyes shyly fixed on his hands, "But I can't."

Honestly, nobody could blame him.

"How much hair does he _have_?" Kenny asked curiously, animosity clearly forgotten, eying the pile of hair sitting behind the bed. The feral brunette looked at it, shrugged, and muttered, "About a year ago it was forty six feet. It grows a little more than three feet a year..."

"Why don't you cut it?" Stan asked instinctively. The angel answered him, voice soft, "It's almost impossible to cut... And Daddy likes it."

The brunette cringed horribly at the mention of this 'Daddy' person. Kenny eyed them both pityingly, glanced at the Sun and and murmured, "I'll make you a deal."

The brunette eyed him with interest, the noirette with apprehension. After a moment, the servant continued with a tinge of excitement to his tone, "We'll help you brush his hair if you tell us about him."

The negotiators held a short staring contest before the brunette stuck out his hand, a grin forming on his roguish face, and announced, "The name's Kiba."

"Kenny. That's Pr-erm, that's Stan." he replied, taking Kiba's hand. "Who's the angel?"

"My name is Kyle." the angel in question answered timidly, offering the blond a shy smile. Kenny's face softened a little at the sight, a feeling of ease sweeping over him. He smiled back.

OoO

Stan had been instructed to keep Kyle company as only two people could fit in the stairwell and they only had two hair brushes. Kiba had practicedly hefted the bundle of hair into his arms and, after a firm warning directed at Stan-_"No cuss words, no bad ideas, no touching, and absolutely no harassing, or I will have your head, you hear me?"_-started down the winding spiral staircase, letting the thick locks of hair trail after him as he went down, down, down, Kenny close at his heels.

Kyle gracefully sat at the top of the stairs, glancing behind him to see the thick tresses flowing down the steps, and slowly looked back at the Prince, a nervous smile quirking his lips.

"I haven't ever talked to anybody other than Kiba and Daddy." he told the noirette, gaining a blank stare.

"You... Have you lived here all your life?" he asked, voice strained. Kyle nodded a little, a sheepish blush blooming across his cheeks. "Why?"

"Daddy wants to make sure nobody can steal me away. Something about how much I'd go for on a black market. What's a black market?"

_It's like talking to a child,_ he thought anxiously, biting his lip. Maybe that would be the best way to talk to him. Then again, _was_ he a child?

"How old are you?" Stan asked instead of answering the redhead's question. "Sixteen." the boy answered simply. "How old are you? Thirty? Thirty five?"

Stan felt across his face self-consciously. Did he look that old? "I'm only eighteen." he answered, staring at the angel's delicate fingers dancing across the material of his plain white gown. "Oh." he responded automatically. "Daddy is really, really old and Kiba... We think he stopped aging at three in dog years."

The two stared at each other, each only able to think that this stranger was painfully _odd_. Kyle crossed his arms over his frail chest defensively and, lacking any sort of social etiquette, voiced, "You're really weird Stan."

The noirette quirked a somewhat fond smile at the angel, responding playfully, "Says the only person in the world with wings."

His breathtaking emerald eyes widened almost comically. "I'm the _only_ one?" he breathed, shock in every syllable. Stan bit his lip, glancing at the steps, and answered carefully, "As far as I know."

"... Wow." he murmured, staring off into space. Stan stared around the room, looking for something to talk about. Spotting the bookshelf, he stood, walking towards the shelves and asking absently, "What do you like to read?"

"I can't read." Kyle responded automatically. "Well, I can, but I'm not supposed to. Please don't tell Daddy."

The ball of unease in the Prince's stomach was tightening with each second. He scanned the titles absently for a couple seconds before stumbling back in shock. "Are these all of your books?" he demanded, spinning around.

Taken aback and a little scared looking, he nodded, murmuring shakily, "I'm only allowed to read books that Daddy says are okay."

"But..." Stan whispered, spinning around to trail the pads of his fingers across the spines of the angel's books, "But these are all fairy tales."

OoO

"So what's the story?" Kenny chose to dive straight into the matter, kneeling on the steps and staring at the curls that announced the end to the seemingly endless wine locks, large wooden hairbrush in hand. Kiba sighed, starting in on the tresses and gesturing for the long to do the same.

Kiba only hesitated for a moment before starting slowly, "I came into the picture six years ago, when he was ten. Apparently, about two months before I met my master, he'd asked if maybe, for his tenth birthday, he could have a friend." he shook his head, moving up a step to reach more of the hair that, to Kenny's amazement, seemed to simply part for the brush, smooth and soft and silky.

"Master sent me to learn about life in the kingdom before he 'employed' me, telling me he wanted a cultured, intelligent person. He told me to come back May twenty-sixth-his birthday-or be damned.

"I wasn't told that I'd be caring for God's messenger until I was shoved in this tower. You can imagine my surprise, being put in charge of a ten year old angel with thirty feet of hair and wings... Being told that if I taint his mind in any way, I'd be killed. No curse words, or innuendos. I couldn't help him at all when he encountered new ideas that challenged his belief system, I couldn't answer him when he asked about life outside this tower, I couldn't even tell him that it was normal when he was going through puberty."

Kiba looked up at the blond and then down the steps. They'd already covered ten feet. "We keep him in a bubble."

"Why?" the blond asked immediately, not looking up from his work. Kiba sighed.

"Master likes the innocence, the dependency, the blind love. If Kyle doesn't know how to question his existence, his imprisonment... Master can keep him here forever." Kiba's eyes watered a little bit and Kenny reached out to pat him on the shoulder, but he flinched away, clearing his throat.

"Master?" Kenny questioned in favor of pressing for further information on an obviously very sensitive topic. Kiba's eyes hardened with hatred and he scoffed. "The owner of the tower... And of me... And of Kyle."

"What's his name?"

Kiba paused for the first time, leaning close to the blond, close enough to hiss into his ear, "_Eric Cartman_."

OoO

"What do you like to do?" Stan asked as he retook his seat, trying to shake off the fact that the only stories the sixteen year old angel in front of him had ever read were fairy tales. Kyle glanced around the room before leaning in conspiratorially and whispering excitedly, "Kiba has been teaching me how to write!"

"Really?" Stan asked, humoring him. "What else?"

The redhead's eyes fell to his hands thoughtfully. "I cook... And dance... Kiba taught me to sing... I read when Daddy isn't around... Sometimes Kiba brings little animals for me to play with..." he seemed to be struggling to think of things. Finally, he perked up and exclaimed brightly, "I draw!"

"What do you draw?" the prince asked curiously. Smiling, the redhead gestured to the ceiling, looking up and gazing around.

Stan looked up as well and gasped. The ceiling-cone-shaped other than the flat circle at the top to accommodate for the shape of the tower-was covered inch-for-inch with everything from portraits to the view from the window to circle designs to abstract art to optical illusions, almost anything you could think of.

"You're good." he murmured faintly, his aristocratic appreciation for art kicking in as he studied the way he used color to create different moods and the way the living things he'd painted looked so _alive.._. The way the slant of the perspective drew you in to the image...

"I'm going to start with the walls soon." he boasted. "I've filled up the ceiling, and that's only my best work."

"That's pretty cool." Stan encouraged quietly, watching the redhead excitedly explain the concept behind the next thing he wanted to draw.

OoO

"Why haven't you ever left?" Kenny asked after another fifteen feet of silence. Twenty more to go. Kiba sighed long sufferingly, trailing his fingers over a length of the wine tresses with the ghost of a loving smile on his lips.

"He needs me." he replied simply. Kenny's arms were beginning to ache. He shook them out, sitting back for a moment and cracking his back before proposing, "Why don't you take him with you?"

"Where in the world could I take an angel and expect him to be safe?" he retorted tiredly. Kenny's brows furrowed in thought and out of nowhere he asked, "Why doesn't he have a halo?"

"He doesn't know he's an angel. I mean, he hears it all the time, but he has never been told about God... And he knows better than to ask."

OoO

"So how do you wash your hair?" Stan asked curiously, reaching out to stroke a lock that had fallen from it's place behind the boy's ear, forming a great loop. Kyle shrugged, "It doesn't get dirty enough for it to need to be washed. The brush does fine."

Deciding that he would overlook that last bit, Stan prodded further, "Well how do you walk around with all that hair? Isn't it heavy?"

Kyle glanced behind himself casually, shaking his head as he did so. "No, not really. They're almost done, by the way."

At that moment, the pair appeared on their hands and knees just within sight of the beginning of the spiral staircase, brushing away at the copious tresses vigorously, totally silent and deep in thought. It didn't take them long to come within comfortable talking distance. "Kyle," Kenny sighed a little enviously, "You have the most gorgeous hair I've ever seen in my entire life."

A bashful blush bloomed across his cheeks, turning his ivory skin a dull pink. "Th-thank you. You're the only person I've ever met with sunshine hair." he replied sweetly, twisting around to look down the five or six steps between them. Kenny's lips upturned into a grin. "You're the only person I've ever met with more than three and a half feet of hair." he returned.

Kiba stood and walked off to the side when they reached the last two or three feet, leaving Kenny to finish up, gently pulling the tangles near the boy's scalp. When he finished, he set the brush down and ran his fingers through the silky strands, looking just the slightest bit love struck. Kiba cleared his throat and the blond servant quickly stood, a sheepish grin in place.

Kyle pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Stan, but the Prince, afraid of pulling the fragile boy down, shook his head with a smile and got up on his own.

For a moment, the four stared at each other, a vague premonition in all their minds; something amazing just happened. Nothing will ever be the same.

"He only comes in the evenings." Kiba murmured, gesturing to the sinking Sun. "You must get going, and you can never tell anyone of the things you saw and heard here."

Kyle's face fell dramatically, his shoulders slumping as a melancholy aura fell over him. He wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging himself tightly and staring at his feet. Kiba sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, turning his eyes first to Kenny's and then to Stan's.

"We won't forget this." he promised. The boys nodded slowly, Stan murmuring seriously, "Likewise."

OoO

A month later, the Prince and his servant sat in the palace gardens, apathetically watching the sun set.

"One month." Kenny murmured monotonously. Stan nodded-he knew exactly what the blond was speaking of.

"I can't get my mind off of them." the noirette whispered into the darkening night. "I-I know this sounds crazy, but I feel like we abandoned them."

"We should go back."

"... Yeah."

OoO

Kenny and Stan stared up at the far, far, far up to the tower's window, bathed in the early morning sunlight.

"I can't believe you forgot the rope." the noirette muttered flatly. Kenny shrugged innocently, turning wide blue eyes on the Prince. "It was an accident." he explained, clasping his arms behind his back and shuffling his feet.

"You play innocent way too well." Stan muttered, making the blond brighten a little at the compliment(?). "How the hell are we supposed to get up there?"

Kenny shrugged, looked up, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "WHERE ART THOU, JULIET?"

Stan facepalmed. "I regret teaching you how to read." he grumbled as Kiba appeared in the window, looking positively ecstatic. The brunette looked around in mock confusion and shouted back, "YO ROMEO, WHERE YOU BE?"

"DAMN GIRL, YOU'S FINE!" Kenny yelled back. Kiba looked down and fixed him with a look. "Y'KNOW, BRO, THE ONLY REASON WE GOT A PROBLEM IS CAUSE YOUR NAME IS _WHACK_!"

Kenny doubled over with laughter and Kiba disappeared from the window for a moment, returning with a thick rope-looking material that he tied around the hook. He disappeared again and suddenly a great wave of silky red tumbled out the window, halting barely a foot above ground.

"Holy shit dude." Kenny breathed giddily, "It's Kyle's hair." Immediately, the blond walked forward and stroked the beautiful veil of hair fluttering lightly in the cool morning breeze. Kiba grinned down at them, shouting gleefully, "Climb on up, Romeo!"

Practically cackling, the blond started to climb, tugging himself up more quickly than Stan would've thought possible. It seemed like only a moment before Kenny was disappearing inside, laughter emanating from the empty window.

Stan approached the hair, experimentally gathering it all into his hands. It was so thick his thumbs and middle fingers hardly reached each other, even when he made both his hands into one big circle, yet so fine it felt like the kingdom's finest silk. And he should know-he had sheets made of the very best.

Experimentally, he tried to tug himself up. He immediately slid right back down, feet kicking uselessly. Scowling, he tried again with the same results. He looked up at the window and found Kenny grinning at him smugly. "Hold on!" he shouted, and the Prince quickly latched on to the wine strands, closing his eyes tightly as he felt his feet leave the ground. It seemed like forever that he was suspended in midair, but the moment it seemed like he would lose his grip and tumble to the ground far below, someone grabbed his arm and yanked and suddenly, his feet were on the floor, but not for long, as he immediately slammed to his knees, hissing in pain as he opened his eyes to find the tower almost exactly as he left it.

"Why are you guys here?" Kiba asked with a note of childish awe that he was obviously trying to suppress. Kenny shook his head, grinning, and answered, "We couldn't not come back."

The Prince heaved himself to his feet and, fingers twitching with excitement, eager smile stuck on his lips, demanded, "Where's Kyle?"

Kiba's elated aura faltered. "He, uh, he had a rough night, he's sleeping in. But if you wanna go ahead and wake him up, be my guest..." Guilt flashed briefly in his dark eyes, followed by anger before returning to happiness. "I'm so glad you guys came back." he sighed as Stan walked quietly over to the bed, eyes fixed on the lump under the covers that the hair was leading from, "Ky's been positively depressive since you all left, though I can't say either of us expected you to return."

Stan leaned over the bed, gently drawing the covers down to around the angel's shoulders, revealing the top of his pure white wings, the feathers gleaming iridescent in the lamp light. The boy was sleeping on his stomach, though Stan supposed he really couldn't sleep any other way with those wings of his. It also brought to mind the question of how he clothed his torso. He was shirtless now, but he'd been wearing a dress last time they'd seen him.

"Kyle." he whispered, shaking the boy's shoulders as well as he could while avoiding disturbing the boy's wings. "Kyle, wake up."

"I'm _tired_, Ki..." he moaned sleepily, snuggling into his thin pale arms. Stan smirked a little, moving his hands down to the boy's side and tickling him lightly, making him jerk away and snap his eyes open, glaring at the noirette for a few seconds before his face broke out into a beaming, beautiful smile and he launched himself into the teen, squealing incoherent and excited things as he clung to the taller boy.

"Omigoodness _Stan_, you came back, omigosh! I thought you'd never come back and I'd never see you again but you're here! Why are you here? Are you going to play with me? I don't have any friends other than Kiba and it's so cool that I have another friend-"

"Kyle." Stan choked out, staring determinedly at the ceiling with a bright rogue blush across his cheeks. "One, I don't really do hugs. Two, you're _naked_, dude."

Kyle stepped back and glanced down at himself, then around the room. Kenny had turned around politely and was rocking back and forth on his feet anxiously and Kiba was trying really, really hard not to laugh. Stan was still staring hard at the ceiling. He looked down again at the expanse of white skin that covered his body and asked confusedly, "So?"

Kenny choked and Stan bit his lip, while Kiba, still giggling lightly, walked over to a large wooden wardrobe, opening it up and peeking around inside. As he looked for something suitable for the redhead to wear, he explained, "They come from this really weird place where it's considered rude to look at people when they're naked."

Kenny shot him an odd look but caught sight of the angel-his beautiful bare form framed by the sheet of hair draped behind him, wings-each about six feet long, longer than the boy was tall-and blushed hard, turning around once more. Suddenly sheepish, the boy wrapped his wings around his body loosely, biting his lip.

"Here." the brunette murmured, handing the redhead a simple blue ankle length gown, which he stepped into delicately and pulled up to slide his arms into the loose wrist-length sleeves and turn around to let Kiba button up the modified back with large slits for wings tied together with a bit of ribbon. "You're fine." the brunette called to the awkward pair, amusement still clear in his tone, as he rearranged the copious tresses to rest against his back, between his wings.

Seeing the question on Kenny's lips before it was spoken, he explained a little stiffly, eyes begging for the outsiders to let it go for the moment, "He's a princess, he's supposed to wear dresses."

Stan recovered more quickly than Kenny, asking the boy playfully, "So are you waiting for a Prince Charming and a Happily Ever After?"

Kyle blinked at him blankly, responding a little monotonously, "My fairy tale is already over. This is my happily ever after."

Kiba cringed a little and Stan flinched, but Kenny stepped forward and pulled the boy into a hug, one arm around his waist and the other on the back of his head, pressing his cheek to his chest maternally. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and asked a little bit too quietly to be normal, "So what do you want to do?"

The angel backed out of the hug, exclaiming happily, "I have a deck of cards! Do you know how to play Poker?"

The prince and his servant couldn't help but notice that he limped just the slightest bit as he walked to go find the cards. Unease settled heavily in their stomachs and they exchanged twin glances of worry.

OoO

Stan and Kenny's visits quickly became a weekly thing and possibly the highlights of the imprisoned pair's day to day life. The four grew closer and closer over the next couple months until it seemed like they'd known each other their entire lives.

But then... Everyone got too comfortable with the way life was.

OoO

Kiba absently stroked the tiny river of hair resting just past his knees, trying to gather his remnants of courage, the pride he once upon a time flaunted. "Master?" he voiced hesitantly, looking up at the large figure sitting in the rocking chair, illuminated only by the firelight. The man's eyes didn't shift from the face of the angel sleeping comfortably in his lap as he rumbled patiently, "Yes?"

"W-well, I mean... It's just..." he cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter, "Master, I would like to learn how to channel magic."

Piercing brown eyes shot to his own and Kiba swallowed hard. "I-I... I do a lot to take care of Kyle... I keep him happy... And healthy... And safe... And all I ask for in return is one night a month with my family. I-I... You're the greatest wizard of the age, known by so many names that no one knows you're one entity..." Flattery is good... "And I would be honored to learn from you."

A somehow narcissistic grin quirked his lips. "A dog casting magic." he scoffed. "Impossible."

"Surely..." Kiba faltered, "Surely a wizard as great as yourself could teach anyone?"

The man considered for several long moments.

"Challenge accepted, mutt."

OoO

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